Of Course
by Kidagarush
Summary: When he'd lost his best friend only to find him in the hands of an enemy so vile, it took everything he had just to stop them, how much will is really left in the Star-Spangled Man with a plan? Bucky is back, and he's free, but the battle is far from over. How much longer do they have to fight each other? Themselves? Stucky. (SteveXBucky) Characters are not mine. R&R.
1. An Outting

"So," Natasha Romanov drawled, stirring her coffee. "How long am I going to be your messenger for?"

Steve Rogers stared into the dregs of his tea for a fair amount of time before glancing up at her, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again. He refocused on his empty mug.

They sat at a downtown cafe, at one of the patio tables. The traffic rumbled by; it was quiet, for New York. Romanov was here on leave between jobs for a few months, and she'd made time to catch up with Steve when she could.

Unfortunately, he was hitting a difficult roadblock in his relationship with Barnes, his best friend. Subjected to a slightly more volatile mixture of the serum than Captain America had been, The Winter Soldier emerged, and nearly consumed what had been left of James Buchanan Barnes.

"Damn it, Rogers, are you a soldier or aren't you?"

"What?" His head snapped up then, and the glare she gave him was more piercing than any he had seen in her arsenal.

"You can't run away from your problems anymore, Steve," Natasha softened her gaze, and laid a hand on his arm. "You should sit down and talk this out- without bringing down a building, this time."

"Tash, you know how unpredictable he is." The blonde blinked a few times, his brows furrowing.

"I can't keep running messages between you two. He's your best friend, and you're avoiding him like he's a leper."

"Thanks for the imagery, Nat, but I can't. Not yet."

"What's the point of all the work Vision and Tony have put into this? Don't you trust them? I mean, I know Tony's a douche, but he's not that much of a douche. He wouldn't throw a challenge like this just to spite Barnes. Or you, for that matter. He does respect you, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. A lot more than he'll ever admit, actually. Maybe you should kick his ass again." Natasha smiled, but she didn't get as much from Rogers. "He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, Steve. He hasn't been for a long while, and you're still making him feel like he's a monster."

At this Captain America could say nothing. He stood, leaving money for the bill, and walked away.

"I care nothing for interpersonal relations myself," Vision began, and Bucky shot him a look. "However," he continued, "I have a plethora of advice to aid both you and the Captain in this… turbulent time; all of which can be concisely summarized by a simple statement. There will be no progress without communication."

"What are you, my shrink?" Bucky snorted, shrugging the A.I. off. He flopped down on one of the worn gray couches in the apartment. "I don't need you to tell me how I should handle this, Vision. Your little club should stop taking turns babysitting me."

"My apologies," the android said, with as much sarcasm as he dared.

"You guys are all talking like we need marriage counselling." Barnes stared at the ceiling, following the patterns of old cracks through the tasteless white plaster.

It was a sparse place, all things considered. He'd never been one for the white picket-fence life, and he'd never set his heart on anything material. He was upset with himself though, every time he caught sight of his few belongings, scattered about. He couldn't help feeling like they weren't enough.

After all Bucky had been through, though, how could he be dissatisfied with a safe place to call home, and free? He had no clue. It was becoming a bitter cycle of self pity and self loathing; he could never settle on which was worse.

He stood up abruptly, and Vision turned to glance at him.

"What will you do, then?"

Instead of answering, James wandered over to the tall shelves that sat empty along the back wall. Empty except for a few old newspaper clippings, some photographs, and a journal. He hadn't a desk, and hadn't thought to get one. He'd also left a few of his wood whittling things on the higher shelf; Bucky hadn't had the desire to work on any carvings for a while now.

Barnes thumbed through the journal again, raising a brow every now and then, and Vision decided against making his impatience known. Rather, he said, "It's your decision, James. If he is your friend, then he will understand." With that, he turned and left, through the wall of the apartment.

"Uh huh." He said it aloud, to the empty room. "I'm going out." He stared up at the camera in the corner of his living room.


	2. Time Well Spent

"What do you mean all of the surveillance you had, Tony?" Steve said into his cellphone, annoyed. "Why would you be camping out his place that heavily?" He was speed walking down 6th Ave., heading into SoHo to get his fill of the older buildings he used to know.

"We weren't going to take any chances," came the reply.

"Stark, I'm starting to think Natasha is right about you."

"Ouch. Careful Spangles, that was almost an insult. If you and your boy scout act are done moping, maybe you'd consider heading over and making sure he hasn't assassinated anyone?"

The blonde almost stopped dead in the middle of the crosswalk. "That was tasteless, Tony, and you know it. Your stake out isn't my concern. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I believe in trusting your friends, not spying on them. You should try it some time."

"Rogers," Tony began.

"Good luck," the Captain said brusquely.

"Steve, wait-" the other man managed, before Cap ended the call. The withered red brick and wrought iron gates brought some comfort, and it was hard to frown as he passed games of basketball, chalked-in hopscotch squares, and shops proudly spilling their wares out onto the streets. He could hardly believe the tenacity of the city after the sheer destruction left in the wake of the Chitauri. Then again, it was New York.

He almost grinned, when someone collided roughly with him, and he landed on the ground. "Sorry," he said automatically.

"What are you, Canadian?" A familiar voice replied.

The other man pulled Rogers effortlessly to his feet, and blinked, taken aback.

"Steve?"

"Bucky?"

"Hey."

"Buck, they're looking for you. You know that? What happened?"

"Nothing. Wanted to stretch my legs." Barnes smirked.

"So you trashed over four thousand dollars worth of Tony's junk?" Steve countered with a wry smile.

"Can't be worth all that much, now can it? You even called it junk."

"C'mon. You know they aren't far behind." Rogers shook his head, then gestured back down the street.

"Nope, not very far at all. Why'd you think I bowled you over, pal?" Bucky called, as he snatched Steve's hand and booked it around the corner and down the avenue.

"Buck, what the-" Rogers had no time to react, stumbling along after him for the first few feet.

"Alright, two blocks and we're pulling a Don Tom!" Bucky shouted.

Cap couldn't help but grin. As naturally as breathing, they both threw themselves around another corner and Barnes hurled his friend into the nearest alleyway. The carried momentum from their joined hands yanked the other man in after Rogers, and they ducked low, waiting. The space wasn't too long, but it was far enough in from the street that they wouldn't be noticed.

"You still remember Donald Thomas?" Steve asked, incredulously.

"Of course I do," Bucky said. "He bullied you worst of all those kids."

The blonde could only stare at his friend, as the pair caught their breath.

"You think that I would forget something like that?" Barnes raised his brows.

"Didn't think it was that important," Cap said honestly. He looked at the ground, then, and noticed his hand clutched tightly in Bucky's. The flush in his cheeks lingered, and not entirely because he had been sprinting.

Some of their very obvious tails came sprinting by, and passed the alleyway without a second thought.

"It was only the best tactical evasive maneuver we ever created, Steve. Nothing confused Don Tom more than your agility." The man grinned.

"It didn't help that Donald had a lazy eye." Steve agreed, laughing.

"Fair point."

They crouched together in the alley until the rest of their pursuers passed them by.

"I still remember," Steve began, but then he shook his head.

"What? What is it?" Bucky asked, his eyes watching the street cautiously.

"I didn't think something like that would stick in your memory, that's all. Sorry I doubted you," he answered, frowning.

"You're the only one that didn't doubt me, Steve. Not for a minute." Barnes drew back then, and shared a look with his best friend then that assured him he'd understood what the apology really meant.

"But-" The Captain began, but the other man wouldn't let him speak.

"Don't. If you apologize one more time, I'm shipping you up to Canada," Barnes threatened him. "The more sorry you are, the more sorry you'll feel. You can't beat yourself up anymore, Steve."

"Buck, I just wanted you to know the reason I've been avoiding you." The Captain closed his eyes for a moment, and let out a heavy breath.

"I already know."

"No, you don't," the blonde said, frowning. "The others all think it's because I'm not sure if you'd go rogue again."

"Yeah. They've all made their lack of faith abundantly clear," the other man said, staring down at his prosthetic arm, his metallic fingers still entwined with Steve's. "That's not your problem, and I know that. It was me, wasn't it?" He asked, not looking up. "How I would react."

"Bucky…" Cap said, quietly.

"The world's different now. I get that. I've hurt a lot of people. I get that, too. What I'm saying is, I forgive you. I wouldn't have been able to do any better."

"I should have stayed by you, James!" Captain America hissed, their gazes finally locking. "I should have been there the whole time, instead of waiting around for the verdict."

"That's bull and you know it," Barnes retorted, struggling to keep his voice low. "I couldn't have stood beside you while someone threshed your brain like wheat! It would hurt too much, Steve. Besides, they need you here more than I do. This," he said, tapping his best friend's chest, right over his heart, "this is what they need. You're a symbol for the old-fashioned justice people want, and can't get anymore. You mean hope and determination to a lot of folks now. If you gave that up for me, even for a minute-" he stopped for breath, and Rogers looked at him incredulously.

"Then it would have been worth my time." Steve frowned across the tense space.

"What? No, I-"

"Buck, if it means helping you out, cheering you up, or pulling you through, you know I'd drop everything. All of it."

"D'you know how selfish that would make me? After all you've done already?"

"I'd do it all again." Steve clasped the other man's shoulder.

"Yeah, and you'd do it in those blue-ass tights, too, I'll bet," Barnes joked.

"I'm being serious, Bucky," Cap frowned.

"And I'm trying not to be," the brunette retorted. He stood up, reluctantly letting go of the Captain's hand. "C'mon. We should be in the clear."

"Hate to break it to you, Bucky," Steve said, a hard tone in his voice, "but we're not. Not by a long shot." He reached out, and plucked a tiny fragment of metal off of James' dark grey hoodie. It was rounded, like a button, and had a minuscule LED attached, blinking red.

"A bug?" Bucky didn't sound surprised, just irritated.

"Yeah. Stark's," Cap said, knitting his brows together. He looked unsure of what to do, briefly, before Barnes snatched the thing and crushed it in his metal fist.

"I'll tell him to put it on my tab. What's that, five thousand and something now?"


End file.
